Page 1 of Iowa Intellect
1
BROCK
Iam unstoppable on the ice. They don’t call me the Brick Man for nothing. Granted, it jibes incredibly well with my actual name, Brock Mann, but I’ve actually worked hard to earn and keep my tough-sounding nickname.
The friends I grew up playing ice hockey with have all veered off in other directions, but I never strayed. Hockey was my first love, and I don’t plan to give it up until they carry me off the rink in a body bag.
I’ve spent the entire day reaching out to everyone I’m connected with online––even some people I haven’t spoken to in years. It’s exhausting work, but it has to be done.
Thanks to the Life Chat data breach, some idiot hacked into all of my social media accounts and started asking my contacts to send money. I’m hopeful that anyone who actually knows me realizes that I would never do that, but I’m not willing to take that chance.
I don’t want people whispering behind my back about how I’ve fallen on hard times and resorted to begging––especially since it’s completely untrue. I would rather eat broken glass than ask for handouts.
Knowing that making all of these phone calls would be total drudgery, I saved the best two for last. Relief sweeps through my system when I realize that I’m finally down to those final two calls.
After plopping down on my sofa and crossing my feet, I grin and tap the button to call my childhood friend, Leo Sullivan. Leo was almost as good at ice hockey as I am, but not quite. I became the breakout star, while he went the pacifist route and became a tree hugger. He literally makes his living as a sustainable tree farmer.
We took very different career paths, but even if we go years without speaking to each other, we quickly pick up where we left off. Today is no exception. He answers the call, sounding thrilled to hear from me.
Leo is one of the few people who never underestimates me, and there will never come a day when I don’t have that man’s back.
As soon as I clarify that any requests for cash that look like they’re from me are bogus, he informs me that I make way more money than he does, so he would turn me down flat, anyway.
I chuckle because I know that, in reality, Leo would give me his last dime. That’s just the kind of friend he is.
Leo sounds truly happy as he fills me in about Charlotte, his mischievous pet pig, and his new love, Camille.
I tell him that I can’t wait to meet them both, and I truly mean it.
He asks about my love life. I quickly brush off the question, since there isn’t much to tell––yet.
Never one to pry, Leo says, “Take care of that thick skull. Rumor has it that it protects a beautiful mind.”
“You know it,” I quip, uncomfortable with my friend’s open praise.
As soon as I sign off the call with Leo, I take a deep breath and search my phone’s directory for Dr. Caroline Wilson’s number. Granted, as much as I’ve seen her lately, I should have her pinned in my favorites.
I stare at her name on the screen, glad that I rewarded myself for a long day of outreach by saving the best for last.
The doctor picks up my call to her personal cell phone on the first ring.
I’m grinning from ear to ear when, rather than a traditional greeting, the gorgeous doctor asks, “What am I patching up for you this time, Brock?”
2
CAROLINE
As the team doctor for the Iowa Gray Hawks ice hockey team, I shouldn’t have any favorite players. I’m supposed to be professional and detached. But gorgeous, charming Brock Mann makes that mission damn near impossible.
When he calls my personal cell phone number to warn me that his social media accounts have been hacked, I find myself twirling a lock of my hair around my index finger. As soon as I notice the girly and flirtatious movement, I force myself to sit up straight in my chair, place my errant hand flat on my desk, and thank my lucky stars that the blasted man couldn’t see me acting like a silly schoolgirl with a crush on the hunky athlete.
In an efficient tone, I say, “Thank you for alerting me about this breach. I’ll be sure to ignore any requests for money that appear to come from you.”
It shouldn’t surprise me that Brock notices the sudden shift in my demeanor. The man always seems to have his finger on my pulse––even though I’m the one who is supposed to be monitoring his health.
“What just happened there? It sounded like you built an entire wall between us in a matter of seconds.” His relaxed drawl is the exact opposite of the clipped manner of speaking that I had just adopted with him.
“Nope, just trying to be efficient. Was that the only reason for your call?” My words come out in a rush as I fully morph into prim, respectable, and time-crunched physician mode.
